


Etched in Stone

by Shujinkakusama



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, During Canon, Established Relationship, F/F, Hot Tub, Kissing, Past Pearl/Rose Quartz (Steven Universe)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 07:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13608702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shujinkakusama/pseuds/Shujinkakusama
Summary: Steven's distress has everyone on edge. While Greg can handle his son's girl troubles, Garnet finds herself contending with Pearl's inability to speak her mind. After all, no one left alive knows Pearl better than Garnet. // Set during Gemcation, fluffy nonsense, Rose left a mess.





	Etched in Stone

There were many possibilities afoot here. Garnet’s third eye produced a twisted, knotted web of paths that she couldn’t seem to navigate, couldn’t map out fast enough. She spent much of the vacation preparation trying to hold on to the script they’d agreed on, nearly flubbing her lines. When it came to Garnet’s turn at trying to speak to Steven, the possibilities were blinding, a fog that obscured her vision, and she simply had to guess.

 

She had guessed wrong. The something that bothered Steven wasn’t the war; wasn’t Pink Diamond. For all that preparation, all the nervousness and worrying and wrestling with reassurances, it had been the wrong angle to approach things from.

 

Steven wasn’t worried about the past.

 

Garnet looked to the future and saw nothing she could change, nothing she could fix.

 

Greg’s pleas didn’t fall on deaf ears, but surely there was no way for him to realize—Steven had spent more time on Homeworld than Amethyst, more than Garnet herself, and that left Pearl in an incredibly precarious position.

 

“It can’t hurt to try,” Garnet tried to assure her, giving Pearl’s shoulder a squeeze.

 

She couldn’t begin to guess which angle Pearl would try  _ from _ .

 

Even through the door, as Pearl struggled to articulate her feelings, her concerns, Garnet felt her insides clench. She’d known for eons that there were things Pearl couldn’t say, couldn’t put into words, couldn’t pen down or project through her Gem. Secrets etched deep in her soul.

 

Garnet hadn’t expected Pearl to try talking about the Diamonds.

 

It hadn’t worked. It hadn’t been what Pearl needed to say, what Steven needed to hear. But Steven had spilled the beans about what was bothering him, deep down, and Greg could handle that, even if a glance into the future could have soothed the boy’s worries all along.

 

But there were other things to worry about now. Piling into Greg’s van to search for cell service for Steven’s mobile device was ultimately fruitless, even if everyone could sit together on the roof and look at the stars.

 

Garnet didn’t need to look into the future to see how uncharacteristically quiet Pearl would be for the remainder of their vacation. Steven was willing to complete the trip—or at least some of it, to allow Greg the chance to sleep before the drive home. That gave Amethyst ample opportunity to finish off their groceries, and Steven some time to talk things through with Greg after they’d returned to the rental house.

 

“Pearl,” Garnet said by way of warning, sliding close to her best friend, whose eyes were a million miles away. The slighter Gem still jumped at the sound of her voice, but instinct had her meeting Garnet’s gaze, and Garnet spread a comforting palm across her back. “You should join me. Become a raisin.”

 

It was open-ended, an offer Pearl could have refuted. Gems didn’t wrinkle or prune in warm water. Similarly, Pearl didn’t need to follow Garnet outside if she didn’t want to—but Garnet knew she would, and the hot tub was still uncovered from earlier.

 

Pearl’s silence wasn’t terribly unusual, but the distance between them was. Pearl had waded across the tub, sat down in the corner, and tucked her knees up against her chest. She looked smaller than ever, with water up to her chin, and the fringe of her pink hair just barely caught in the water’s surface.

 

For several seconds, Garnet weighed her options, but the future wasn’t clear here, either. It rarely was, with Pearl. The fusion often wondered whether Pearl herself was aware of just how much sway she had on her future, and the futures of those around them. She was wild and unpredictable even now, even without a war to fight.

 

The water was hot enough that steam rose from its surface without Garnet’s help, and she glanced toward the door into the house warily before dissipating her visor in a flash of light that caught Pearl’s attention more than anything she could think to say would have. Wide blue eyes peered up at her, and Garnet knew that without her visor on she couldn’t help the tiredness that crept into her smile.

 

“It’s a relief that Steven’s problem turned out to be…”  _ Nothing _ was wrong, dismissing Steven’s concerns about his relationship with Connie wasn’t right, particularly not when Garnet wanted to discuss feelings Pearl tended to try to sweep under the rug, herself. Garnet pursed her lips in thought, settling into the corner next to Pearl. “…Manageable.”

 

Manageable was a better word. Garnet couldn’t truly imagine a future in the short-term where Connie was absent from their lives for long. She knew that was a relative measurement, knew that Connie’s life was going to be short, but living in the present for Steven meant slowing down. Taking things by the day.

 

“It’s going to be fine.”

 

From the way Pearl barely bobbed her head, it wasn’t sufficient reassurance. But it meant she was listening. Garnet sighed faintly, tipping her head back, sinking into the hard plastic of the tub more to make a point than anything. Pearl needed to relax, and if she needed to be shown how, Garnet could offer that, even with too little room to stretch her legs.

 

They lapsed into silence—or, really, Pearl never actually pulled herself out of it—and Garnet wondered if ambient noise would help. She wondered, too, if now were the time for tactile reassurance, or if it were too risky, but she wasn’t going to ask. Garnet could wait until morning if it really came down to it. Neither of them were turning into raisins, after all.

 

When Pearl finally spoke, her voice was small and trembling, and Garnet knew she wouldn’t have heard it over the sound of the bubble jets if she had turned them on, after all.

 

“I couldn’t say it,” Pearl mumbled, voice choked, lifting her head just enough to keep from swallowing water. “It’s been eons, and I couldn’t...“

 

This time, she didn’t clamp her hand over her mouth. She didn’t need to. Garnet watched the dancing reflection of fairy lights on her best friend’s wide eyes, and she knew that Pearl was thinking faster than she could speak, of things she couldn’t actually articulate, and the fusion shifted where she sat, straightened her back, and drew an arm around Pearl’s narrow shoulders.

 

“You tried,” she said soothingly, “I’m proud.”

 

If her words reached Pearl’s ears, it wasn’t immediately apparent. Garnet wondered if she should repeat herself when Pearl abruptly locked eyes with her, staring as if she’d remembered something long forgotten, and suddenly Pearl was in her lap, bony arms folded around her best friend’s shoulders, and Pearl had her face pressed into Garnet’s hair where it was already wet, and a little tears wouldn’t make a difference.

 

Not that Garnet couldn’t tell. Not that Pearl’s shoulders didn’t hitch, or that her slight chest didn’t heave when she stuttered to breathe, not that she was  _ truly _ silent about it when the two of them were alone.

 

Not that Pearl made a habit of crawling into her lap when she was upset  _ without _ crying.

 

“It’s okay,” Garnet said, and Pearl’s muffled protest was a testament to how far she had come over the eons. Millennia ago she would have agreed out of a misplaced sense of obligation, but they were beyond that now. The fusion rubbed her back soothingly, drew her knuckles up along the ridges of Pearl’s spine where it dipped, and it felt a little unfair by comparison, wearing hard armor when Pearl was seeking tactile comfort after all.

 

“I’m going to take off the breastplate,” she warned, and Pearl parted as if expecting Garnet to do it the old-fashioned way, like she was wearing real, physical armor, the sort Bismuth had crafted for her during the war. It spoke volumes of how far away Pearl’s mind was, but it gave Garnet ample opportunity to cradle her damp cheeks in her hands. “It’s okay.”

 

If Pearl’s protests were meant to be coherent, she wasn’t putting much effort into them; she reached for Garnet’s hands on either side of her face, whimpered something in a long-dead language that Garnet wasn’t sure she was meant to understand, and closed her eyes against the flurry of light motes that came with Garnet’s armor disappearing, carried away by the steam from the tub.

 

Without her breastplate and shoulder pads, Garnet looked smaller, somehow  _ younger _ , and Pearl sank back into her bonelessly. The fusion wondered if, perhaps, Pearl was the one who ought to wear armor between them; she always displayed full vulnerability, wore her emotions on her sleeve, and looking into her eyes was like reading a screen.

 

Pearl wasn’t sobbing anymore, at least, but her breath hitched and her arms returned around Garnet’s bare shoulders, tugging at her uniform with trembling hands.

 

“It’s okay,” Garnet said again, a mantra Pearl knew the tune to, a brush of lips against her shoulder that made the slighter Gem shudder.

 

The knot to Pearl’s sash came away easily, and Pearl didn’t protest one bit as Garnet’s hand slipped up under her tunic to rub soothing shapes into the small of her back with her forefinger and thumb. There were other Gems, and certainly humans, she would have objected to—but not Garnet, never Garnet, who knew her almost as intimately as Rose had, even if they weren’t really lovers. They shared more than anyone, save perhaps Ruby and Sapphire, and even then, it was a deliberate choice that they didn’t live out eternity as Sardonyx. Pearl crumpled into her, tucked her face into the sweep of Garnet’s neck, and her muffled apology was so quiet that Garnet barely heard it against her throat.

 

But she didn’t need to, not really. Not like this. They weren’t fused, and Garnet didn’t see any immediate futures where Sardonyx made an appearance, but Garnet had known Pearl since the moment she burst into existence; Pearl was always there, always been part of her world, a thread in the loom that was impossible to ignore or miss. Pearl didn’t need to be in her line of sight for her to sense her presence, to feel the way she tugged at the thread of the universe, and in turn Garnet didn’t often need to look for her—her thoughts turned to Pearl, reached out to wrap energy and love around her best friend without prompting, and she wasn’t sure if Pearl was in tune with the universe the way she was, but she liked to think she felt it.

 

Then again, she needn’t look for someone who was wrapped around her arm, anyway. Pearl made a point of staying close, especially in recent years, and Garnet enjoyed that more than she let on. The current that flowed from Garnet’s Gems took some conscious effort to reign in, with Pearl whispering against her neck, but Garnet didn’t think either of them wanted to short out the hot tub or the lights.

 

But Pearl couldn’t hide from her forever. Her hands had settled against Garnet’s chest, spread over her bust, mostly out of the water, and Garnet knew that their position looked anything but innocent. Her tri-colored gaze flitted toward the back door, then back to Pearl, and Garnet withdrew one hand from under her tunic to smooth down her hair in the back.

 

“Pearl, I want you to look at me,” the fusion said, voice gentle and firm, a rumble that made her best friend shudder. But Pearl was made for orders, made to obey, and even if she didn’t have to, she drew herself back to meet Garnet’s eyes.

 

“There are things we can’t change,” Garnet started, holding Pearl’s gaze, cradling her face in one hand to keep her from looking away. The smaller Gem nodded almost imperceptibly, gripping Garnet more tightly, because they both knew it, and neither wanted it to be true. “Some of those things will change on their own. Some changes will come gradually. Some will remain constant. It’s not your fault if it isn’t the time.”

 

Tears were brimming in Pearl’s eyes all over again, and Garnet wondered if she knew just how strong a vice grip she had on her heart. It took effort not to chide her for crying. Eons ago, Garnet remembered the first time she had seen the Terrifying Renegade break down, and it hurt  _ more _ now. They weren’t at war. They had already lost everything and built a life from the rubble. It was only in recent years that Pearl had started smiling again, and Garnet wanted to protect that smile from the world, even knowing that she couldn’t. 

 

It took some effort not to pass future vision along when she pressed a kiss to the corner of Pearl’s eye, but Garnet knew all too well that the possibilities would overwhelm Pearl like this. 

 

“Two years ago, you wouldn’t have tried,” Garnet pointed out, withdrawing the hand that had remained under Pearl’s tunic and earning a whimpered protest. “It’s progress.”

 

“He could have died out there,” Pearl blurted out, “Garnet, he risked himself, he  _ saw Homeworld _ , it’s my fault for being like this, I couldn’t  _ protect _ him!”

 

Garnet shushed her, knowing that Pearl was too distressed to listen to reason. “It isn’t your fault,” Garnet murmured, but she knew better than to try to take the blame. “You’ve come a long way, Pearl, but it’s not your fault that you are what you are.” She paused, gathering Pearl closer, and the alabaster Gem crowded so close to her that it almost felt like they  _ could _ melt together like this. “I didn’t see that outcome, either.”

 

That was hardly a good thing. In point of fact, being unable to rely on Garnet’s future vision was likely to doom them all. Steven was a wildcard, and knowing that all along didn’t make it easier to protect him or his interests. The humanity Rose so cherished and coveted made the future murky and difficult to navigate, and Pearl didn’t think she understood it much better now than she had fourteen years ago. 

 

Pearl pressed her cheek into the stone centered in Garnet’s palm, against the cool cut of Sapphire’s Gem.

 

The fusion didn’t need to weigh the odds to see Pearl struggling to ask for something, but she could feign patience in the meantime, tucking steam-curled strands of her peach hair into place and brushing her fingertips along her fine cheekbones. 

 

“I know you hate asking,” Pearl managed to blurt out, brows furrowed. Her hands clenched behind Garnet’s shoulders, and her best friend’s fingers stilled at the dip of her spine. Wide blue eyes peered up at Garnet, and Pearl sank into her lap a little more firmly. “I just—can you—ask me something? Something I couldn’t answer before. A-and then something I could. Please, Garnet, maybe if it’s from you…”

 

Pearl didn’t need to finish that train of thought, and Garnet felt her heart clench. There were things Rose had kept from her friends, from her soldiers, that only Pearl knew. Pearls were meant to hold things, and Rose Quartz would have been a fool not to use that to her advantage during the war. Pearl had been her confidante, because no amount of offered freedom had changed her purpose, her  _ utility _ as a pearl. 

 

Garnet didn’t want to own her; didn’t want any part of Homeworld’s hierarchy and strange castes, or the ridiculous notion that her best friend needed orders and ownership and chains to survive. She believed Rose’s propaganda as much as any other Crystal Gem, maybe  _ more _ , because she hadn’t been made with a purpose in mind.

 

She didn’t want to prove Rose Quartz  _ wrong _ by affirming Pearl’s place in the puzzle. Gems had as much right to be free with their fates as humans. If Pearl could only answer because she saw Garnet as her owner in Rose’s stead...

 

But she couldn’t say no to Pearl. Not when her best friend was trembling in her arms and close to tears.

 

“Who were you made for?” Garnet asked slowly, carefully, and for a moment, Pearl looked like she might speak, until her teeth clacked audibly shut and her jaw refused to budge.

 

She couldn’t answer.

 

Garnet knew not to be relieved, not when Pearl’s eyes were brimming with tears. She leaned in, nudged her nose against Pearl’s, and tried to smile. “Who do you belong to?” Questions felt strange on her tongue, but Pearl could have cried for joy when she found her voice again.

 

“No one.”

 

It wasn’t quite true. But it was true enough, and moreover, the answer didn’t include mention of a Diamond, alive or dead. 

 

Pearl opened her mouth to thank her best friend, but Garnet wasn’t finished yet, and she pressed a light kiss to the corner of her lips to slow her down even for a moment. “And  _ where _ do you belong?”

 

“Right here,” Pearl blurted out, and color rushed to her cheeks as she realized how naturally that answer sprang to mind. “On Earth. With you. A-and Amethyst, and Steven.”

 

For a moment, Garnet considered pointing out that there were a few more family members she could add to that list. Over Pearl’s shoulder, she glimpsed a rush of brown hair through the window, and decided not to invite trouble by naming the only human on that list. If he wasn’t going to ruin the moment by coming out to turn off the hot tub, Garnet wasn’t going to tell Pearl they’d nearly been caught. 

 

“With us,” Garnet agreed, meeting Pearl’s gaze again and smiling, “Forever.”


End file.
